


The Fourth

by rilenite



Series: The Hell Campaign [1]
Category: Dragon Ball Z, Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Gravity Falls
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dungeons & Dragons, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - The Worst Possible Universe TBH???, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2019-02-07 12:46:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12841479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rilenite/pseuds/rilenite
Summary: Vegeta had only ever feared three people in his life.[AKA: I'm in a DnD campaign where I play Vegeta as a joke and things took a turn for the serious because I'm a fool.]





	The Fourth

**Author's Note:**

> Hey so remember that campaign where I play Vegeta? Our DM plays Bill Cipher.  
> I'm in hell.

Vegeta had only ever feared three people in his life.

The first was Dodoria, a brutish Goliath whose job was to groom promising recruits into elite soldiers. His training sessions were much less actual teaching and much more glorified beatings that he took great pleasure in. Vegeta had directly asked Lord Frieza to allow him to attend the barbarians training sessions, and if it weren’t for his own damned pride he would have begged to be let out of the sessions for good.

After he began attending the sessions, he became incredibly familiar with the compounds clerics, and often found himself taking his anger at the situation out on said clerics. He eventually began to learn things from the meetings with Dodoria, but with every step he took, the giant seemed to be leaps ahead. There was no pride in succeeding in Dodoria’s training, just relief that he’d be able to walk back to the barracks without assistance.

The second was Zarbon. Vegeta had actually met Zarbon before he’d ever heard of the rest of Frieza’s army, the Yuan-Ti was the one who first came to meet with his father. When Vegeta had first see him, he couldn’t imagine how the vain creature could possibly represent a supposedly feared army. The man looked like he’d never seen a raid in his entire life, the uniform he wore was clearly made for decoration rather than actual combat, and his entire appearance was manicured. Then he watched as one of his father’s unrulier men attacked the general and was struck down in mere seconds.

He couldn’t help but feel amazed in that moment. He’d seen people die before, but it was always rough and dirty. There was tearing and dirtied hands, this murder was quick and clean. The blood was wiped from the blade Zarbon had used in a smooth motion, and wear the man had been cut there was a clean severance. Following that awe was terror, death wasn’t supposed to be sudden and clean. It was meant to be long, and foreseen. You were supposed to have made your peace with the Gods, pray that your death is glorious and your opponent fears that you will kill them as much as you fear they will kill you. It wasn’t meant to be effortless, it wasn’t meant to be sudden and without warning.

He’d made an effort to avoid the man once his people were moved to one of Frieza’s compounds, but after he was taken in by Lord Frieza it became much harder. His Lord put the general in charge of his education, the man was incredibly intelligent and at first came off as kind enough. The longer he spent with Zarbon though, the more he picked up on the man’s subtler behaviours. The casual knocks to his intelligence, the tendency to give him assignments that he knew he would be unable to complete correctly, the sudden and harsh outbursts of anger when he took too long to figure something out. Eventually he decided he was a lost cause, too stupid to learn even the basics. It burned him to have be insulted as such, but at the same time he couldn’t help but be overjoyed that he was finally done with the stupid books and maps they had thrown in his direction. He didn’t need to learn those things anyway, he was a fighter, and reading was for those with priorities unlike his own.

The third man was Lord Frieza himself. The pale humanoid was small for a dragonborn, hardly taller than Vegeta himself, but the power he held within himself was extraordinary. When Vegeta had first been taken in by the man many of their meetings were simple and quiet. Just questions and food. Then it turned to discussions of the future, the plans his Lord had for him. The meetings were laced with subtle threats, ranging from little comments on what might happen to his father should he fail to meet deadlines, to the hand on the back of his neck growing tense when he reported something undesirable. There were also not so subtle threats. Vegeta had seen more than his fair share of servants who accidentally intruded on one of their meetings find themselves on the wrong end of a hellish rebuke. He’d watched entire cities fall to the man, unsuspecting townsfolk turned to dust by one eldritch incantation uttered by the humanoid.

Vegeta didn’t remember many of their later meetings, he would feel himself fall into a sort of fuzzy state where the entire world was a second behind, the room was a centimeter to the right, or the words spoken to him were no longer ones he understood, then he would find himself in the mess hall or at the training grounds in the middle of a task he didn’t remember starting. He never mentioned this to Nappa, no matter how much these blank spots scared him. It shouldn’t have scared him that much anyway, he’d always hated those meetings anyway, it was a mercy he could just turn himself off in those moments. It was a mercy he was too stupid to accept without worrying about it.

Vegeta was only scared of three people, all of whom weren’t in this town. He was off of the compound, far from all three of them, so why did he feel that uncomfortable bit of anxiety in the back of his throat? That anxiety was saved for those three men exclusively, but now it was rearing its ugly face as he looked up at the towering stranger. He wasn’t an imposing figure, certainly he had height on his side but he was thin as a bean pole. He looked as though a stiff wind would snap him in half, so why did the man’s smile make him feel so damn unsettled?

“You know Prince, I’ve been looking for you,” the words startled him out of his reverie, especially the use of the title Prince. As a child his people and affectionately referred to him as such, but nowadays it was more of a mocking term than anything. And just how would this man even know of his title? It had been years since his people had fallen into obscurity. He couldn’t help but feel a bit of pride that the memory of his people had lived so long after their destruction, but at the same time the anxiety in him grew.

Vegeta said nothing, instead crossing his arms and looking up at the man, waiting for him to continue.

“Oh, you’re going to play quiet, yes? I should have expected as much. Well, lucky for you I don’t mind being the one who does most of the talking little Prince,” the too happy tone of the man's voice further drew up anxiety, it was a tone people only used when they were playing with you, waiting for the moment to pull you into their trap. “See, I’m in a bit of a pickle, and I’m looking for the most qualified of individuals to help me out with my… situation.”

He felt his pride begin to fight against the anxiety, perhaps this man had some sense and saw potential in him that was being wasted.

“I’ve heard stories about you through the grapevine, a prodigal fighter and elite member of Lord Frieza’s army. I’ve heard stories of your people as well, once you get past all the dirty bits you come from quite the talented people didn’t you? If the stories are true, then I believe you’re exactly what I’m looking for. I can’t go into specifics now, but I can offer you a chance to fight against being far stronger than the ones you find in those little underground rings you frequent so often, I can’t imagine you’re happy with something as unchallenging as that little Prince-”

“You’re playing me,” he said shortly, and for a fraction of a second, he swore he saw absolute fury in the eyes of the man. 

“I don’t know what you-”

“No no, I know you’re playing me,” he took in a deep breath, letting his pride take over the anxiety, “But you’re Gods damned right.”


End file.
